FicWad

“You look gorgeous,” my mom smiled. “Turn around a few times.”
I rolled my eyes as I played model for my mother. If you can make it through this, you can survive the dance without a problem, I thought. Right now I was trying on a black and purple dress that wasn’t really my style, but it made my mom grin and clap when the light hit it and made the sequins sparkle. “Can we try on the one I actually like?” I asked.
She sighed. “Oh, whatever.”
I went back into the dressing room and slid the silky fabric over my body. It was an awesome dress. It was about knee length, black and slimming. I can’t really describe it, but it had thin straps, a ribbon wrapping around the middle, and it was made of a shimmery kind of fabric made to look like silk. It was nothing fancy, but I really liked it.
I stepped out for my mom to see me. She gasped. “Oh, Samantha, it’s gorgeous.”
I turned to see myself in the mirror. In that instant, I knew. It was the dress I would wear to the dance that was two days away.

I took a deep breath as I met my own eyeliner-shrouded eyes in the mirror. Steady, girl, you can do this. The dress clung to my waist but fell loose down to my knees. It had thin straps and lace around the edges. I wore my favorite boots. My hair was flat-ironed and fell around my face.
I heard the front door open and my mom listening as Gerard introduced himself. Show time. “Sam!” my mom called.
I blushed when his eyes widened as I made my way downstairs. He wore a black suit with a crimson red tie, his black hair thicker than normal, coming down to his shoulders. His eyes sparkled under a very thin and subtle hint of guyliner. He looked AMAZING.
My mom smiled. “You look so beautiful.”
After about a million pictures, my dear mother finally let us go. He stopped before opening my car door. “You look incredible.”
I felt myself grin. “I love the guyliner. You should wear it more often.”
He laughed, looking just about as nervous as I felt. “I don’t think it’s my thing.”
I giggled, and he leaned forward, taking me by the back of the neck and gently kissing me. Then, smiling, he brushed the hair out of my face. “Sorry. You looked so cute there, I had to do it.”
I fought off the urge to burst into a fit of giggles and stepped aside to allow him to open my door for me. The ride to school was silent without being awkward. We had both accepted the fact that we were nervous but we’d be okay.
When we entered the gym it was packed—mainly because there were a lot of people standing against the wall, doing nothing. Heads turned when we walked in together, and I could almost hear Tina’s fingers flying across the keyboard of her phone as she set her Facebook status.
It just so happened a slow song came on really soon after we got there. He led me onto the dance floor awkwardly, his arms sliding around my waist as if he’d never touched me before. I smirked as I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close. “I hate this song,” I mumbled, just to make him laugh. Everyone else was still, staring at us. I ignored them all. Eventually Gerard stopped caring as well.
And then it was just me and him. I was dancing with Gerard. Dancing with death.
Too soon it was over. The dance ended and people started filing out of the gym towards their cars, yelling across the parking lot about after parties and who’s getting a ride where. I had just managed to tune it out when Tina came scurrying up to us. “SAMMY. YOU DID IT!” she squealed, laughing, hugging me. “You look great. Here’s your money,” she said, shoving it into my hand. “You win the bet this time, dear, but just you wait. Next time it’ll be something you could never do.” And then the little (insert insult here) sauntered away towards Mike, who was waiting in his car.
I wanted to punch her. In the face. So hard it gave her a nosebleed.
“What bet?” Gerard asked, looking scared to know the answer.
“Don’t worry about it,” I mumbled.
“No, I will. What. Bet?” He was mad now. He wasn’t stupid. He’d figured it out. But he wanted to hear me say it.
I turned to face him. Despite the pain radiating from my chest, I got mad right back. “The first day you came here Tina made a bet with me that I couldn’t ask you to the dance and slow dance at least one whole song with you because she knew I couldn’t stand you. I wanted to refuse, but she threatened me and I hated her and I knew it would give her satisfaction if I backed out. So I told her I’d do it. Then we got paired for that project and I got to know you and I thought, Hey, maybe this dance thing won’t be so bad. I’m sorry, okay? I know it sounds really petty-teenage-girl-esque.”
He rolled his eyes, and if I had X-Ray vision I think I’d see some part of his heart breaking. “That’s the only reason you asked me here tonight? Just because of some stupid bet with Tina? I thought you hated her! You know what? Whatever. I don’t care. I’ll see you around, Samantha.”
Damn. Why did he still have to say my name so perfectly? But now it was empty, like an old habit he didn’t want anymore but couldn’t seem to break. I couldn’t tell if it was my tears or the rain that started once he drove away that got my face wet first. I walked the five blocks home, soaking wet and miserable—inside and out. I entered through the front door, ignored my mom’s questions as to how the dance went and why I walked home, went upstairs, got in the shower, and went to bed without a word. I cried the whole time.